A Seat at the Table

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As you may or may not know I have been terrible at completely the 30 Days of Kink writing challenge but as it features on my 101 things in 1001 days I thought I better get on with it as those 1001 days are rapidly drawing to the end. One of the reasons I have stalled so long is that many of the questions have quite complex answer. I could write a couple of throw away paragraph giving vague answers but that just doesn’t sit well with me and so I tend to over think the whole thing and then just cast it aside because it makes my brain ache. Well no more, I am going to force myself to get this done. Starting with

How Did You Discover You Were Kinky?

What was your first kinky sexual experience?

I have grouped these two together because one informs the other but when I started writing the answer I realised that it is quite a story and just the conclusion of the story and what I learned about myself as a result is a blog post in itself and so I have decided to split it into 3 separate posts which I will publish here over the next 3 Wednesdays.

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So, a little bit of context for you before I proceed. I had been in a long-term relationship 18 years in total, 13 of them married, which I had finally ended about 6 months prior to the beginning of this story. I had been feeding my sex drive mainly through a variety of chat rooms, none of which had enlightened me to my submissive desires but had certainly allowed me to explore my slutty, cock loving, desires. I had even had a short fling (6 weeks) with a bloke I meet from a chat room and a couple of one night stands but for the most part I been happily masturbating away through a variety of cybersex encounters and online erotica. I certainly knew what D/s, kink and BDSM where and I was reading lots of stories the involved those themes and enjoying cyber sex with men that often featured rough sex and elements of bondage but I had no idea that there was anything more to it for me than that. If you had suggested to me at this time that I was submissive I would have fallen about laughing. I had after all, just freed myself from a very long-term relationship, I felt strong, independent, confident and I wanted sexy sex. my knowledge of D/s and submission was so thin that to me it meant quiet, compliant, domestic service, catering to the man’s whims…. all of which sounded rather like being married to me and I knew without a doubt that I was none of those things.

We meet through an online dating site. It was not a kink or swingers site but a completely vanilla site full of what appeared to middle-aged divorcees of both genders looking for ‘someone special’. In a fit of madness I had paid for one month’s subscription. I was fairly sceptical about the whole dating site thing and, at the time, living on a very tight budget but I was also fed up of sitting at home night after night. I was single for the first time in 18 years and I wanted a date, even if it proved to be nothing more than dinner and a chat I didn’t really care, I just wanted to go out and so I gifted myself a month’s subscription deciding that if I couldn’t get a date in a month then it was not worth paying for any more time than that. I spent evening after evening trawling through all my ‘top matches’ only to find that huge numbers of the profiles belonged to people who had either not logged into the site for months, sometimes even years, or who’s profiles were just so very dull. There was lots of talk of countryside walks with the dog and cooking meals for a ‘special lady’ etc that just felt so clichéd. I did send message though, not everyone appeared dull at first glance but, of all the messages I sent at least half never replied and those that did seemed to find the concept of conversation somewhat challenging and before we even got to the, would you like to meet, stage things tended to peter out.

One of the ‘rules’ I had set myself early on was that if they didn’t have a picture on their profile then I was not interested because it meant that either they could not be bothered, which in my opinion showed they were not really serious about using the site or that they had something to hide. The vast majority of profiles had pictures though and so it was not a big deal, just one of the ways of whittling the huge amount of profiles down to something a bit more manageable.

So time ticked on, not one single date had occurred, and there was 3 days of my subscription left. As you can imagine I was feeling fairly fed up with the whole thing but, not one to give up before crossing the finishing line I sat down one evening for a final big search through the site determined to make sure I had not missed anything, or should that be anyone. The whole time I had been on there this one profile had constantly been listed in my ‘Top Ten Matches’ every single time I had clicked on the button to generate that list it would always be there but it had no profile picture and so I had repeatedly dismissed it from the list. On this occasion its appearance yet again in the list irritated me, who was this annoying person who was supposedly my ideal match but could not be bothered to post a picture? So I read the profile only to discover that whoever had written it seemed to have a better idea of what might make for interesting reading than the vast majority of other men on the site. He was funny, direct and there was something about it that just felt honest. At the end of his profile he had finished with a slightly cryptic question about the rules of rugby which would mean require some Googling but if you didn’t even know enough to understand the question you were no going to find the answer, luckily I did.

The message I sent him was the answer to the question and then…

Is this a quiz, if so, what did I win?

He took nearly 24 hours to reply, which was very annoying as by then I was on my last day of membership but when he did reply it said…

“No, it’s not a quiz, but if you keep being such a good student then you will get to sit on the teachers knee”

That was the beginning of our communication and the end of my membership to the site. My initial assessment of this guy seemed to be turning out to the true. His messages were fun, sexy, charming, and direct and he most definitely had my attention. The issues surrounding his lack of images were soon sorted out , he was more than happy to send me a picture he just didn’t like posting them on websites that said things like ‘your profile image may be used in our promotional material’ and soon we were exchanging messages and images that were increasingly hot and sexy.

After about 10 days we finally agree to meet for a drink with tentative plans for dinner afterwards if drinks went well. I put on my only suitable summer dress, stocking suspenders matching black lace bra and panties and black heals and off I want to my first real date in years.

I remember sitting in this hotel bar politely chatting with him about kids, life, ex husbands & wives etc but finding myself leaning in to catch a whiff of his rather delicious scent and trying desperately not to keep looking at the tantalising glimpse of chest hair that was just visible at the top of his shirt. He was older than me by ten years and his pictures had not lied, he was tall, handsome in that shaved head kind of way and he looked at. That might sound weird but I had spent a long time feeling like no one saw me, now all of a sudden I seemed to be the centre of some ones attention. When he suggested dinner I was delighted. When in the car park he lent across and kissed me I was even happier and when he trust his fingers between my thighs and fingered me right to the point of orgasm I was ecstatic. When he got out of the car and left me sitting there panting and desperate to cum I just sat and stared up at him utterly confounded by what had just happened.

“I thought you wanted dinner?” he said, reaching out a hand to help me out of the car.

I followed him across the car park and into the restaurant. We ate a delicious Thai meal and talked, less about kids and ex’s this time and more about sex, desire, things we had and had not done. I can remember telling him about liking anal sex, and only losing my anal sex cherry in the last year but as the evening progressed I started to think that maybe I had imagined what happened in the car. He never kissed me again, he didn’t touch my leg under the table and when I moved me leg hoping to touch his I got the impression he moved away and yet, when I looked across the table at him I was fairly sure he was completely and utterly focused on me.

At the end of the meal the bill came and we split it. Then he excused himself to go to the bathroom, but just as he was about to walk away he said

“What time do you have to be home?”

I explained there was no hurry, the kids were staying with my friend for the night.

“Good” he replied “Because I am going to take you back to my place now and fuck you”

To say he nearly finished what he started in the car with his fingers with just that one sentence is not far from the truth. It was like a gut punch to my cunt. While he was in the bathroom I can remember fleetingly toying with telling him not to be so presumptuous and that he didn’t get to assume that about me but then I was slightly considered he might believe me and send me on my way home and I didn’t want that. I wanted him to do exactly what he had just said; take me back to his place and fuck me!

PART 2…. The Main Course